The Guard burst into
the Commandant’s office panting, and exclaimed, “He’s escaped again!”

“Who?” said the Commandant, tossing the report he had been reading onto his
battered and badly discolored desk.

“The Rabbi’s son,
Ehrich Weisz.”

“Have the hounds
been released yet?”

“Yes, they have
picked up a scent at the north wall.”

The Commandant
leaned out of his chair and gathered his ash-gray tunic from the rack. “Bring
my stallion,” he said firmly. “This time I will lead the chase myself, and when
we have collected Mr. Weisz, I will personally construct a cage that will bar
any more of his games.”

His horse was an
ugly beast who filled its viewers with revulsion, yet it was a powerful steed
capable of traversing the rocky gorges and muddy swamps that surrounded the
prison camp. Three guards followed him out, mounted on beasts even worse than
his. They raced after a pack of starving hounds waiting to savage Weisz.

Weisz was a small
but agile man. By the time the Commandant’s forces had discovered he was
missing, he had already traveled several miles from the camp. His strong arms
and legs had allowed him to clamber up one of the highest rocks in the swamp,
and he was able to see the dust cloud raise just outside of the camp’s iron
gate.

“Well, they know
I’m out,” he said to his mother.

“How long do you
think before they pick up the trail, Ehrich?”

“Not long, mother…I
can hear the wails of the hounds in the distance.”

“We have come so
far this time, I was hoping we would make it,” his mother said sadly.

“Well, they haven’t caught up to us yet. If we can make it to the top of Old
Gooseberry…well, at least the hounds will not get us up there.”

The Commandant
raised his hand, palm outstretched to hold the three riders behind him. He
studied the tracks below his mount, freshly pressed into the black mud of
Serpent Swamp. One of the riders brought his tussling steed up alongside him
and asked, “Why do you pause?”

“He is crafty. Don’t you see? Of course you do not. Weisz knows that we
cannot travel as fast as he through the swamp. But he also knows that the dogs
can. Remember the last time the hounds caught up with him?”

The guard laughed
sadistically.

“He will not want
to repeat that experience for a very long time. No, he will exit the swamp and
try to avoid us another way.”

“But Commandant,
there is but one way out—through the swamp.”

“No, there is
another. No one has tried. But it is possible that he will be the first.” The
Commandant whirled his animal’s head to the west and kicked at its sides. The
steed galloped into the black and cold night. The other three riders exchanged
glances and raced after him into the black fog that swirled around the dead
swamp, named for the serpent that owned it.

Weisz’ mother was slower than her son, yet a spry woman who with her son’s
aid could move much faster through the murky swamp waters than the prison guard
could have imagined. She was also filled with a perseverance and devotion to
her son that made her capable of overcoming any personal discomfort. He and she
waded through Serpent Swamp for hours, finally coming to a rocky trail that was
the closest thing to a road in this part of the Fatherland known to the locals
as Wassail. “I think I can see it,” Erich said, squinting through the fog.
“Yes, it’s about two miles ahead.” He took his mother’s hand and led her onto
the path toward Old Gooseberry.

“We better hurry,
dear. The guards will be coming up behind us soon.”

“I haven’t heard
the howl of the hounds for the last hour. It is possible that they lost our
trail in the swamp…but even if they did, now that we are on solid ground…”

The two staggered, supporting each other, along the trail, their clothes
covered with mud and wet dark green moss from the swamp. Smoke began to drift
into their nostrils as they moved closer to the mountain. The damp fog was replaced
by the dry heat and soot expirated by Old Gooseberry. “How will we ever reach
the top?” his mother exclaimed, as she saw the active volcano more clearly.
“Ehrich, I can’t even see the top.”

“Do not worry,
mother, we will make it.”

The Commandant’s
steed stumbled and fell as stones broke loose from the small trail he had been
negotiating. He and his mount tumbled in a mass of legs, arms, hooves, stones,
gravel and scattered provisions. The animal raced off down Old Goosberry’s
eastern slope and the Commandant rose to his feet, brushing dust and gravel
from his tunic. “We will need to continue the climb on foot,” he told the three
others peering down at him from horseback.

The two sets of
climbers moved up the exact opposite sides of Old Goosberry, as they progressed
at exactly the same pace toward the volcano’s cauldron. After several hours of
arduous climbing, both Erich and his mother reached the rim of the bubbling
molten cauldron. Across it, the Commandant and his troops reached the summit
and almost instantly saw Erich and his mother. Quickly he sent two of his
demons around the north side, while he and the other soldier moved steadily
around the south side. Ehrich and his mother saw them closing in, long shadows
growing larger as the evil ones’ forms were reflected against the black ash rim
of the caldera, the yellow-red light pouring from its boiling lava. Erich took
his mother’s arm. The two looked deep into each other’s eyes and leaped
simultaneously into the mass of burning liquid rock.

The Commandant and
his friends peered into the caldera for the next ten minutes before abandoning
their vigil for the long climb down the mountain, and the even longer
inquisition that was to follow.

Erich and his
mother sat under a willow tree nestled quietly in a sprawling meadow. His wife
arrived with a basket filled with all the perfect picnic selections. The three
talked and watched children play catch on a bright and beautifully clear, yet routine
day in Heaven.

“Mother, I never did thank you properly for coming for me,” Ehrich said.

“Oh dear, my part was small, all I did was show you the way,” she said,
smiling. “After all, no cage on Earth or, for that matter, Hell, could hold the
great Harry Houdini.”

The three laughed together and watched as an angel escorted a new arrival
over to a tearful reunion with the man’s old fishing buddy.